So Jo decided to tackle chamber music. The definition of chamber music is that it’s played by one musician per musical part. By contrast, in an orchestra many musicians play the same musical part. Brahms had already written several piano sonatas, a violin sonata that ended up in the fireplace, and the Trio for Piano, Violin and Cello in B Major, Op. 8. The original 1854 version was the barely disciplined work of a wild young man, and it never caught on. But Clara loved it. Near the end of his life, Brahms gutted and rewrote it, and that’s the version that is performed today. I’ll cover that version when we get to it.
If you’re going to write chamber music, the first thing you think of is a string quartet. But if you take that path, you run up against the definitive quartets of Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven. Thanks to the work of Robert Schumann when he became the musical executor of Franz Schubert’s estate, the quartets of Schubert, who had died in 1828, entered the repertory, and the final four were impressive, placing him next to Beethoven. Brahms shied away from this genre, fearing “the tramp of giants” behind him. Eventually he did publish a pair of string quartets, but not until he had sent 20 of them to the fireplace.
What Brahms decided to try was an archaic form, the string sextet, which consists of two violins, two violas and two cellos. This makes the ensemble bottom heavy and creates the possibility of a muddy sound. To get around this, Brahms keeps the two violins at the upper end of their range so they can be heard. This is necessary if all six instruments are playing all the time, as they do in this piece. Later, Jo would find a different solution to the formal problem of a sextet.
This is sometimes known as the “Spring” Sextet, and that moniker speaks for itself. By this time Jo and Clara had spent countless hours playing the recently published four-handed piano duets of Schubert, and some of Schubert’s techniques leached into this work. For those who reflexively say, “Chamber music is boring,” you’re in for a treat.
Chamber music audiences tend to be top-heavy with musicians and people who are really into music, so this was a good move by Brahms. The sextet was premiered in October 1860. Brahms’ friend Joseph Joachim recruited a pick-up ensemble of five other players for the first performance, which was very well received. Jo Brahms was back! Now, in addition to the hand-rolled Caporel cigarettes he chain-smoked – rolling machines hadn’t been invented yet – Jo now took up a quality brand of cigar. He was on his way.
He starts with a rolling first subject in B-flat stated on the cellos and then by the whole ensemble. At 1:49 he introduces a transitional section in the remote key of A Major before settling into the second subject at 2:28 in the correct key of F. This is where he learned something from Schubert. This recording skips the exposition repeat and goes into the development section at 3:58. At the end of the development, the cellos hint gingerly at the first subject, and at 6:18 everybody joins in the recapitulation with the first violin playing a counter-melody. Brahms abbreviates the first subject and leads into a heartbreakingly beautiful passage at 6:47 with the first violin going into the stratosphere. At 7:47 the transitional passage appears in D Major, and at 8:26 the second subject returns in the correct key of B-flat. But Brahms saves the best for last. At 9:47 he builds his coda from the first subject and carefully winds it down, until at 10:25 he resorts to pizzicato, building to the finish. (Pizzicato refers to plucking the strings, not bowing them. It doesn’t mean “a little pizza”.)
This video displays the score. For those who have played instruments that use the treble (G) and bass (F) clefs, the viola, and occasionally the cello, use the C clef. That notch in the C clef marks the line that is Middle C.
Brahms: Sextet in B-flat Major, Op. 18, first movement
The second movement is set in theme-and-variations format, and the theme is based on an ancient device, a bass line known as la folia, which was used by many composers to include Beethoven. Brahms writes for the cellos as though they are the Renaissance viola da gamba, a six-stringed cello-like instrument. There is the distinct flavor of Heinrich Schütz (1585-1672) in the theme. In theme-and-variation movements, the rule is that the harmony underlying the melody must remain constant in each variation, but everything else is permitted to vary.
The theme is in D minor, and at 1:33 the first variation begins, with the cello taking the theme, followed by the violins, with the other instruments accompanying with chords. At 2:56 the second variation begins with the violins taking the lead while the cellos play chords. At 4:12 in the third variation, the violins break the theme into short fragments while the violas and cellos play arpeggios. One of the conventions is that at least one variation must be in the opposite mode (major versus minor), so Brahms sets his fourth variation at 6:33 in D Major. The fourth variation’s theme has a distinct flavor of “Auld Lang Syne”. At 7:00 the fifth variation, also in D Major, has the violins and violas playing in their upper registers, and they sound like a small hand-pumped church organ, another trick picked up from Schubert. The theme returns at 8:32, and the cello is accompanied by pizzicato strings. It wraps up quietly in D Major.
The picture of Brahms in this video shows how he looked in his Twenties: a blond-haired, blue-eyed young man who was devilishly handsome – and knew it! This recording features a cast of all-stars and was recorded in the Forties.
The very short scherzo in F Major has a country dance flavor to it while the middle section is a wilder dance.
The finale is a beguiling rondo in B-flat. In a rondo, the first theme comes back again and again, with forays into other themes before the return.
Well done!
So much interesting information....I’ll be reading & listening every chance I get through the weekend Prof & thank you so very much for all your work!